After taking the money out of the box, Yun Yin heard Zhang Lin say worriedly, “Miss, do you think what Mr. Fu said is true? There are actually bandits around here? What if we run into them?”
Yun Yin patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry—aren’t I here?”
“Even if there are bandits, I’ll be in front. What are you afraid of?”
Zhang Lin still looked troubled. “But will merchants still pass by? If they don’t, our stall’s business will suffer.”
At that, Yun Yin grew concerned as well. The biggest downside of setting up a stall along the main road was the unstable customer flow. She relied entirely on passing merchants. If bandits really were active nearby, it would surely affect her livelihood.
“How could there be bandits?” she muttered, puzzled. The Great Zhao dynasty had been established for over a decade—if not thriving, it was at least stable. This wasn’t a remote wilderness either; there was a village just beyond the mountain and a town not far away. How could bandits appear here?
She regretted not asking Fu Wang for more details.
Looking at the now quiet and empty road, Yun Yin waved her hand. “Forget it. Since no one’s coming for now, Zhang Lin, go back to clearing the land. It’s early spring—we should plant some vegetables.”
The ten mu of land allocated to her couldn’t go to waste. Farming was practically instinctive for people like them. Even if she wasn’t skilled, she didn’t want to leave it idle.
Zhang Lin sighed. “Got it, Miss. I’ll go turn the soil.”
After he left, Yun Yin waited a while longer, then, seeing no one on the road, returned to tidy the thatched hut.
Since it had been built, she hadn’t properly organized it. Everything was piled together. Now that she had time, she decided to clean up.
When she saw the bag of cornel (zhuyu), she smacked her forehead. “How did I forget this?”
When she made pickled fish earlier, she had lacked chili peppers. She remembered that before chilies were introduced historically, people used zhuyu as a spicy substitute. After asking Madam Luo, she learned it existed here too.
Thinking of zhuyu reminded her of the famous line by Wang Wei—“With dogwood planted everywhere, one person is missing.” She felt a similar loneliness herself.
Shaking off the sudden melancholy, she began sorting the zhuyu, wondering what dishes she could make with it.
Yun Yin loved spicy food—but that was chili spice. She had never cooked with zhuyu before. In modern times, chilies were easy to buy, but zhuyu was rare.
Apparently, chilies hadn’t yet been introduced to Great Zhao—at least, she hadn’t heard anyone mention them, not even Luo Man.
Since she couldn’t find chilies, she would have to experiment with zhuyu.
She took some zhuyu and found star anise and cinnamon in another corner. These spices were expensive, so she had only bought a little. Fortunately, the pork she had wasn’t too gamey, so a small amount would suffice.
She decided to make braised pork for lunch—a perfect dish to go with rice and especially suitable for travelers.
After tidying the hut, she picked up the pork belly Zhang Lin had bought that morning and headed back to the stall.
Just then, Zhang Lin called from afar, “Miss! I’ve cleared one mu of land! Do you want to come take a look?”
Yun Yin glanced at the meat in her hands and decided to check the field first.
The land Zhang Lin chose was near the small river, making irrigation easier. The soil had already been turned over once, with stones removed and clumps broken up.
Yun Yin nodded in approval. “You’re fast—you finished this in just one morning.”
Zhang Lin grinned. “I’m used to farm work. And I’ve been eating well lately—I’ve got plenty of strength.”
“What should we plant?”
Yun Yin thought for a moment. “Let’s grow things we use often—scallions, ginger, garlic. Also some cabbage.”
“Oh, and it’s time to plant chives. We can ask Sister Qian if they have seeds.”
She suddenly remembered there were many other vegetables, but she wasn’t sure which were in season.
“You keep clearing the land. I’ll be back soon—we’ll decide what to plant after.”
Before Zhang Lin could respond, she had already run off.
Returning quickly to the hut, Yun Yin took out her agricultural guidebook. “I only know Great Zhao doesn’t have chilies or potatoes… not sure what vegetables are available.”
“But first, let’s see what can be planted in spring.”
She flipped through the thick book. The first entry she saw was eggplant.
Skipping the general information, she went straight to planting methods. It mentioned seedling timing—February to April in the north, December to February in the south.
She noted it down and continued flipping.
Soon she realized—there were far too many vegetables suitable for spring planting.
Leafy greens like spinach, lettuce, bok choy, and amaranth; root vegetables like carrots, radishes, and beets; stem vegetables like celery, lettuce stems, onions, scallions, and chives.
Then came fruit vegetables—cucumbers, pumpkins, melons, bitter melon, tomatoes, beans, peas…
She felt even ten mu of land might not be enough.
Wiping sweat from her forehead, she decided it would be best to ask the villagers what they usually planted—and perhaps buy seeds from them.
She also searched for mushroom cultivation techniques. Though there was no specific guide for straw mushrooms, she found something similar that might work.
When mushroom season came in May, she would give it a try.
After putting the book away, she returned to Zhang Lin. “Keep clearing the land. Tomorrow I’ll go buy seeds. After that, I’ll leave the farming to you.”
She knew her limits—though the book explained everything, she had no real farming experience. It was better to leave it to Zhang Lin.
Once again, she felt how wise it was to have kept him around.
Back at the stall, seeing no customers, she began preparing lunch.
They had eaten noodles in the morning, so she decided on braised pork with rice.
She set aside the bone broth and brought out another pot. After blanching the pork belly, she cut it into chunks.
In the wok, she heated oil, added ginger, star anise, and cinnamon, then stir-fried the pork until golden. She added sugar, soy sauce, zhuyu, and salt, coating the meat evenly before simmering it slowly.
After that, she steamed rice and prepared some cabbage.
They had been eating rich foods lately—it was time for vegetables.
As she worked, she thought about buying an iron wok. Cooking with a cauldron was inconvenient, especially for stir-frying.
She missed the smoky flavor of wok cooking.
If no customers came that afternoon, she decided she would visit the county tomorrow. There was no blacksmith in town, only in the county.
Once the pork was tender, she reduced the sauce and plated it. Then she stir-fried the greens and called Zhang Lin to eat.
The sun was high overhead. Seeing Zhang Lin running over, drenched in sweat, she said, “Slow down—no one’s rushing you.”
Zhang Lin panted. “How can I not hurry when it’s time to eat?”
“If it’s too hot, take a break,” she said. “You don’t have to clear everything at once.”
“I’m fine,” he replied. “This is nothing.”
“What are we eating today?” he asked eagerly.
“Braised pork,” she said, handing him a bowl of rice.
Zhang Lin swallowed hard. “Following you means meat every day. I’ve eaten more these past few days than in a whole month before.”
Yun Yin knew his past—after fleeing famine, he hadn’t had meat in a long time.
“Try it,” she said. “I added zhuyu. Do you eat it where you’re from?”
“Yes,” he replied after a bite. “We eat it in Jiannan too.”
Yun Yin tasted it herself. The pork was tender, melting in her mouth—rich, sweet, slightly spicy.
It was the perfect dish for rice.
She ate several pieces before slowing down and turning to the vegetables. Their freshness balanced the richness of the meat.
Seeing Zhang Lin ignore the greens, she said, “Eat some vegetables too.”
“With meat like this, who wants vegetables?” he grumbled.
She shot him a look, and he reluctantly took a bite.
Even Yun Yin, who loved meat, knew balance was important. Besides, the vegetables, stir-fried with pork, were delicious too.